Dragon Scales (4 page)

Amantea landed on the huge support beam that ran the length of the room. The roof was a series of crisscrossing beams, and all of them were wide enough to support his weight in his smaller form. Amantea settled at a wide junction, turning in a circle to see if there were any gaps in the roof.

Isaia said something from below, but Amantea ignored him. There was a bit of a gap in the corner to his right, and he flew for it. He'd get away from Isaia and go deal with Naldo himself. He didn't need a stupid, know-it-all dragon telling him he was too young to do anything.

The house shuddered when Amantea reached the gap, and for a moment, he thought he'd done something and the building was about to come down on his head. Nothing of the sort happened, though, so Amantea stuck his head through the gap—and promptly ran into a barrier.

"You're not leaving!" Isaia yelled from below. "I've sealed the whole house."

Amantea pulled his head out of the gap. Isaia was standing below, looking particularly pleased with himself. Amantea wanted to throw something at him; where was a colnut when he needed one? Flying over to the center of the support beams, Amantea settled on the intersection of the largest two. He shifted back to his larger form so that Isaia would be able to hear him.

"That's not fair!" Amantea crossed his arms and scowled down at Isaia. "I don't want to be here."

"Too bad," Isaia said. "I don't trust you won't get yourself in worse trouble if I let you go."

"That's not your problem," Amantea said. Could Isaia get up to the rafters? Amantea didn't see how, short of Isaia shifting... which was possible, given the space in the house.

"It is if you warn Naldo I'm coming for him," Isaia said. "You'll stay here. I'll let you out in a few days and you can go home then. You're not going to convince me to let you leave, so you might as well make yourself at home."

He turned away from Amantea, and Amantea made a rude gesture at his back. It wasn't fair. He was tempted to throw himself into a portal and hope it took him somewhere nonfatal... but he could set up a proper portal after Isaia left, which would get him to the town where Naldo was far quicker than Isaia could walk.

Shifting back down to his smaller form, Amantea scouted out the rafters for a solid, quiet corner, and settled in. Tomorrow would be better. He'd lose Naldo in a pocket world, and Forthingworth too, and then everything could go back to normal.

Amantea woke to the sound of Isaia banging around below him. He nearly tumbled from the rafter he'd fallen asleep on, startled by the sudden, unexpected noise. Steadying himself, Amantea peeked over the edge of the rafters, watching blearily as Isaia threw the contents of a chest across the floor. What he was in search of, Amantea didn't know, but he didn't find it if the way he threw the chest after the contents was any indication.

He was naked again, Amantea's sleepy brain processed, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't look his fill. If Isaia cared about his nakedness, he'd be dressed, and he most certainly wasn't paying Amantea any mind, so it wasn't as though Amantea would get caught.

Amantea might be young—not that he'd admit that to Isaia—but he wasn't young enough he couldn't appreciate a fine body when he saw one. Isaia was bigger than him, even in their comparably-sized forms. He had fine muscles, thick thighs, and a firm ass. His arms were near as thick as his thighs, and his chest and stomach looked as though they could break a rock were it thrown at him. His skin was dotted with scales, and Amantea wouldn't mind the chance to follow their paths, find out how soft they were, whether they were textured.

Isaia looked up then, and Amantea retreated back to the rafter. He wasn't going to deign to talk to Isaia until the jerk let him leave. He wasn't a child. He could help catch Naldo. Once Isaia was gone, Amantea would find a way to make a portal to take him to the little town where Naldo was. He'd get there way ahead of Isaia and throw Naldo through a portal and hope it took him to the other side of the world.

And then do the same to Forthwithington.

"Flit!" Isaia yelled.

Amantea crossed his arms and didn't move. Was that childish? Amantea didn't want to prove to Isaia that he was too young to do things on his own... But Isaia would see that when Amantea took care of Naldo.

Isaia growled, and Amantea hoped that Isaia
didn't
have any way to get up to the rafters. He heard several stomping steps, and then Isaia yelled up at him again. "I'm leaving! I'll be back in a few days. Feed yourself. I don't want a dead flit in my house when I get back."

Amantea bit his tongue to keep from replying. Isaia was quiet for a long moment, and curiosity gnawed at Amantea. What was he doing? Was he watching the rafters for any sign of Amantea? Waiting for a response?

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Isaia growled again, sounding frustrated. That was his own fault, though. The door opened, and then slammed shut. Amantea didn't move. The magic seal around the house hadn't changed at all. Did it keep Isaia in? Or just Amantea?

After a minute of silence, Amantea poked his head over the side of the rafters. Isaia wasn't by the door. Emboldened, Amantea flew off the rafter and surveyed the room below. Isaia was gone.

For now, anyway. Amantea landed on the rafter again, trying to stretch out the soreness in his muscles from sleeping on a hard surface all night. Would Isaia return to try and catch him out before he left for the village where Naldo was? He might; he seemed that sort of contrary dragon. Amantea would wait a few minutes, and then go find the things he needed to make a portal to the village. Yawning, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

Amantea woke slowly, blinking groggily as he yawned. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and another few to remember that he had things to do. How long had he slept? He didn't know; the windows still showed bright sunlight, but he didn't remember which direction the sun had risen from, so he didn't know whether it was still morning or if it had gotten as late as afternoon.

Either way, he had to get going on the portal to Naldo's village. Who knew how close Isaia was at this point. Amantea all but tumbled off the rafters, catching himself and flying down to the floor. There, he shifted into his larger form and tugged his shirt on over his head again.

The contents of the trunk Isaia had decimated were still strewn across the floor. It was mostly fabric—scarves, like the one he'd worn the previous day—with a few trinkets and some other odds and ends. One of the trinkets caught Amantea's eye: a small, feminine broach, shaped like a flower and set with several softly colored jewels. It was pretty and seemed completely counter to Isaia's tastes. Amantea picked it up, running his thumb across the front of it.

He tucked it into his pocket to investigate more thoroughly later and then headed for the kitchen area, such as it was. There had to be something he could use to create a portal. Amantea opened a cupboard, wrinkling his nose at the smell of dust and faint decay. There were only a few beat up dishes in this cupboard, and Amantea poked through several more cupboards. Most were empty, a few held dishes, one held a variety of dried meats, and the last held dried herbs.

Amantea scoffed loudly. What had Isaia thought he'd eat? The jerky? His stomach flipped at the thought of that, and Amantea sighed. Dried herbs
might
work, but Amantea doubted it. There simply wasn't enough left to them for his magic to grab onto.

Turning, Amantea surveyed the room. There was a depressing amount of nothing. He almost felt sorry for Isaia, but then quashed that. Isaia had left him trapped here; he deserved to live in a near-empty, sparse, depressing house for forever. Maybe. Except that this wasn't his real home, Amantea recalled, and Amantea scowled at the house as though it were the source of all his problems.

Amantea headed across the room, his hopes quashed. He wouldn't be able to get out. He'd be stuck here and would never be able to prove to Isaia that he wasn't a hopeless, idiotic flit. Amantea tugged his cap down, making sure his ears were covered—and promptly tripped over something on the floor and went down hard.

"Ow," Amantea muttered, wincing as he straightened up. Sighing, he took stock. His elbows had taken the brunt of the fall, and they were scraped up and sore. There was some blood welling up, but not a ton. They stung like he'd touched resia toxins. Twisting his head, he scowled at the... handle?

What was a handle doing in the middle of the floor? Stinging in his elbows forgotten, Amantea scooted over and tugged experimentally at the handle. A hatch in the floor shifted, but it was a heavy door, so it didn't open. Standing to get more leverage, Amantea tried again. He heaved the door open with all his might, letting go as soon as it was vertical. It banged backwards loudly, revealing a small, dark hole in the ground.

It smelled of vegetation, and Amantea tamped down his rising hope. But a root cellar made sense, and he climbed down the ladder quickly. It was too dark to make out much, but he grabbed the first small sack he could reach from the ladder and brought it back to the house proper.

The sack proved to be full of potatoes, which, after mushrooms, were the best thing for portals. Grinning, Amantea left the sack on the floor by the root cellar entrance and went to clear a wide circle on the floor. It took him several minutes to lay the potatoes out and imbue each with a small bit of magic, but then everything was set. Hopefully the portal magic would work despite the seal on the house.

Taking a deep breath, Amantea stepped into the portal and activated the magic.

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in Isaia's depressing house, but in a field a short distance from Naldo's village. Amantea grinned, glancing around and seeing no one. Still, he took a moment to make sure his cap was pulled down to cover his ears. He'd heard plenty the last time he'd been at the village about the villagers' opinions of faeries, and blending in was definitely the better option.

The walk to the village was short and pleasant. The sun was hot on his shoulders, but a pleasant breeze whisked away the worst of the heat. Everything smelled of summer and growth, and Amantea could almost forget where he was and why he was there.

He smelled the village before he reached it. Wood smoke, harsh and acrid, the various unpleasant smells of herd animals in close proximity, and the more pleasant smells of baked bread and pastries. Amantea wanted to try one of everything the little bakery had to offer, but he didn't have anything in the way of money.

The village was a good size, from what Amantea could tell. There was a main path that was bordered by several shops, including the bakery Amantea had lingered over previously. He didn't hesitate to pass it by now, headed for the tiny cottage on the edge of town where Naldo lived.

He'd set up an unanchored portal, then lure Naldo into it by saying he had Isaia out in the forest. If he was discrete, he could have Naldo on the other side of the world before he even realized he'd been tricked. Farworthton might be more difficult, but Amantea would deal with that after he'd dealt with Naldo.

There were few villagers about, it being midday and they all... doing whatever it was humans did with their days. Those that were out waved and greeted him cheerfully enough. Amantea returned their greetings, wondering if they'd be half as friendly if they could see under his cap.

Naldo's cottage was much the same as Amantea remembered it. The roof was thatched hay, the exterior made up of stones that had been molded together with clay or something. There were flowers beneath the windows, but they were unkempt, and Amantea didn't think Naldo had cultivated them purposefully. Amantea slowed as he neared, glancing about to see where the best place to set up his portal would be—

—only to have his plan dashed by the sound of Isaia shouting.

"Where is she!"

Amantea paused, then crept forward, toward the sound of the voices that came from around back of the house. If Naldo replied, Amantea couldn't hear it, but he certainly heard Isaia's reply.

"I'd rather turn you to ash and find her myself!" Isaia shouted. Amantea shivered; that was certainly far more threatening than he'd ever heard Isaia before, including when Isaia had been threatening and yelling at him the previous day.

"You won't find her," Naldo said, and he sounded insufferably smug. Amantea reached the corner of the house and peeked into the backyard.

Naldo looked as smug as he sounded. His mouth was curved into a smirk, and he didn't seem the least bit alarmed that there was a dragon standing a few feet from him who looked more than willing to ash him. He was dressed much the same as the last time Amantea had seen him: in patched, threadbare clothes and worn, scuffed boots. He was a little too thin, and his skin was very pale, though Amantea had no idea if that was normal for humans or not. Certainly the other humans he'd seen in the village had had more color to them, but even faeries came in different shades of skin.

Isaia was red. He hadn't bothered to try and hide that he was a dragon, though to be fair, it would've been difficult with the scales that traced his body. He wore nothing but another scarf around his waist, like he had the previous evening, and his skin was suffused with angry color. He'd never turned that red at Amantea.